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About a month ago, my husband and I decided to be responsible adults and use a portion of our tax return and go through one of the biggest rites of passage for any Southern Californian (particularly a new one): we bought annual passes to Disneyland.

Disney knows how to hook you, even if you really can’t (or shouldn’t) afford it. You can purchase a day pass and then up your ticket to a yearly pass (that day) and pay in monthly increments. So while you’re signing your life away, you’re thinking it will only be $30 per month to have unlimited access to unlimited happiness, you are definitely not thinking that in a year’s time you will have paid over $400 to have such access. No, you are not thinking that at all!

Previous to buying my pass, I had had a somewhat limited experience with Disneyland. According to my parents, I allegedly went when I was 2 1/2, but I have no memories of it. I don’t count that. I went to Disneyworld when I was 5-years-old, and only have vague memories of it, mostly consisting of the Dumbo ride and meeting Goofy, for whom I apparently ran away from my grandparents for and almost gave them heart attacks. I also went in high school as a part of a choir tour, and then again in college on a spontaneous (and now infamous) road trip with one of my favorite accomplices, Krissy. We were determined to stay in the park from opening until closing, but at about 2 p.m. we felt like we had been run over. I believe we made it until 9 p.m. before calling it quits. Post-college, I went with my brother and his now-wife and my now-husband (that sounds weird, but you know what I mean). I’ve never seen anybody fall in love with anything so rapidly as my brother with Disneyland. Two years ago, my husband and I went for his birthday, since it was the “Year of Dreams” and you could go free on your birthday. It was a whirlwind of a day, and it was his first time there. Obviously, more time at the park was needed.

These are the faces of happiness.

The day we purchased our passes, I am not ashamed to tell you that at points I would randomly attempt to leap like a ballerina and shout, “We’re at Disneyland!” It was magical (the day, not my dance moves – I’m white. I can’t dance). I was wide-eyed and soaking it all in. That night at the “World of Color” show I couldn’t help but feel like I was part of a great big happy family. Granted, between my husband and I we will have paid an exorbitant amount over a year’s time to be a part of that family, but I didn’t dwell on that. Of course not.

Each time we go – and we’ve been almost every weekend since buying our passes, I feel like I’m stepping into a different, magical world. (I’m sure Walt would love to hear that.) I hope the magic never rubs off, but we’ll see. I’m a little afraid I’m about to become one of those Disney-ified people that have Disney stuff all over their house, car, office; have the Christmas ornaments, the pins… oh the pins.

(Side story: During our most recent adventure at Disneyland, my husband and I purchased Disneyland lanyards for our passes like Asian tourists. [We’re also seriously hunting for fanny packs to complete the nerdy ensemble]. He surprised me and got me the Wall-E and Eva pins for my lanyard. I’ve only recently discovered the Disney pin obsession and I’m terrified I’m going to be sucked in to pin mania.)

For now, we’re like crack addicts after… crack. Being able to go to Disneyland anytime we want is so tempting. Because why hang out in Burbank if you could be hanging out at the happiest place on Earth?!